#I was gonna draw a whole page of doodles right

[palmtree-art]

I gotta re-listen to tma...a

[eddie4bat-president]

Saw a drawing of Steve and now I'm suddenly thinking about artist Eddie who designed the Hellfire shirts and Corroded Coffin fliers and who draws the villains of his D&D campaigns to slap onto his DM screen for visual aid and doodles in class and-

And i'm thinking about Steve, in a relationship with Nancy, trying to ignore that things are rocky but knowing it all the same. He finds a notebook left behind in school and he only takes it because he forgot his own. He plans to use it for the day and then figure out whose it is and get it back to them in exchange, that's probably more than fair, right? And the person is really gonna want this back - it looks like half their life is contained in this thing; there is... a shit ton of loose paper stuffed between the pages and notes on all kinds of subjects and drawings and.... he doesn't even know what that is. Who is Vecna and what the hell is a... lich?

Anyway as he leafs through it he finds that some of the drawings are... actually really good. Like, absurdly good for being in a lined notebook that looks like it has taken a trip into a dumpster and picked up some debris on the way out.

Like! Those hands! Steve has no artistic bone in his body but he's heard people whine about drawing hands and - he looks at the hand not holding the book and back again - yeah, that's exactly what hands look like! And here - a few pages further (it's one of the most empty pages of the whole thing, mostly because this one seems to have started as a drawing and not as a page of notes that turned into a drawing) there are only a few lines on the page but it's still very clearly the back of someone's neck, the collar, one shoulder.... Then there's another one that is almost all lines, but they were all carefully placed to give the effect of perfectly windswept hair. Then there's one that he actually can't make sense of at first (he almost pages past it because it is just a few lines and dots taking up a quarter of a page of very annoyed... history notes? Maybe English.) It's just a jawline with some moles but... only the day before he had cut himself shaving a finger's width underneath those exact moles. And that's when it clicks. He goes back to the hair... yeah that- that could be him too. Maybe. He flips back to that one very detailed drawing of hands and... putting down the book he tries to get his hands into the same position - the angle is off but. Yeah. That's why they looked so perfectly...! Uhhhh... Handsy! Because they're his fucking hands!

Anyway Steve realizes that about a third of the drawings are or could be him. He realizes that he actually can't go through with giving it back because - what would he even say? "Hey found your notebook, nice shrine to me?" Yeah no. But he's... also reluctant to take it to the Lost and Found. There's something in the handwriting.... He has a feeling that it might not be a girl secretly drawing him. What if someone else connects the dots? What if they confront the mystery artist about it? Flashbacks to his fight with Jonathan, the line he crossed and immediately regretted. He doesn't want to be the cause for someone else getting called that. And unrelated to that, things with Nancy aren't great right now and it's... it's just nice to think someone is paying attention, alright?

Then Halloween happens a few days after. The Break-up(?), the demodogs, Billy and the tunnels- and afterwards it's nice to have the notebook to distract him from the pain. The mundane mystery of a schoolmate maybe having a crush on him. He might not even have to confront them - he can just figure out a way to slip it into their locker; it looks like at least half their schoolwork is crammed into this thing, no matter how half-heartedly done. They definitely want this back.

Man, I wish I could actually write this thing. Damn. Maybe I could even do a scene where Steve tries to Sherlock Holmes his way to Mystery Artist and confronts a (hatefully seething) Robin, because she sits behind him in that one class, only to find his own Watson in her instead. But alas. It cannot be.

[impishjesters]

I have this idea floating around in my brain for a while about a reader who likes to draw and because they have a crush on Jax they draw him. Jax eventually steals their notebook and probably teases them about it lol.

Jax x Crushing!Reader

warning(s): innuendos, bullying/teasing, Jax note(s): Look it's me and Jax, there's gonna be innuendos or some spicy wording and bullying. It's like a packaged deal or something. A/N: If you see me mixing Angel Dust's speech into Jax, no you didn't. If you didn't notice, I don't know how to tease and not be an asshole, so pretty on the brand I guess.

Caine had given you a sketchbook upon request, it was a little different than an actual sketchbook but it did the job regardless. Ever since your arrival, your fingers have been itching to draw, there were so many new sights and so much new inspiration.

There were so many things, so why did it seem like the doodles of Jax ended up on almost every page?

Easy, you had a crush on the apathetic, mischievous jerk named Jax.

Why? Well, now that’s the million-dollar question. He’s not inherently awful, no, that’s a lie, he’s an asshole. You don’t really have a good read on him yet but he’s funny! That’s gotta be redeemable, right? However, his jokes are usually backhanded and often involve being mean at the expense of others.

Okay so he’s a walking red flag but there’s something about him that has you crushing on the purple bastard.

Looking down at the sketchbook on your lap shows another two pages filled with sketches of random things, though most of the page is filled with Jax. You had taken to sketching things back in the real world to remind yourself of home, but eventually, those sketches would involve Jax doing mundane things.

Thing’s like sitting at a table eating real food, though you took creative measures when drawing an open mouth on him, it still looked off but it was serene and domestic. Then there’s the little sketch at the bottom of the page of Jax leaning against a window and staring outside. You’d manage to nab the pose and angle when he was leaning against one of the many random geometrical-shaped things in the main room and later added in a window.

It was embarrassing that almost more than half of the pages in the book involved Jax to some degree. Some pages weren’t even subtle, the whole page taking up a detailed portrait version of the male. Sometimes you even got creative and put him in different clothing.

Thumbing through the pages you saw there weren’t that many empty pages left. You’d need to ask Caine for another one and figure out what to do with this one. It couldn’t be left out in the open, you knew Jax had keys to everyone’s room and wouldn’t put it past him to go snooping. He’d already questioned you about the sketchbook before.

You’d been so focused on the sketchbook that you hadn’t noticed the man of the hour walking up. Jax noticed your intense focus and peeked over to see the infamous sketchbook on your lap, and with practiced ease managed to yoink it right off your lap.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? You finally showing me what you keep your nose buried into?”

A yelp left you, stumbling to get on your feet you rushed to him and began swatting at the book and of course, he’d keep raising it just out of reach. “You took it! I didn’t say you could look at that!”

“Nah, pretty sure you said I could look at it.” He continued to lower and raise the book as you jumped to grab it. Sure he was curious before, but with a reaction like that? How could he not be even more curious? What kind of seedy shit were you drawing? Or perhaps some spicy nonfamily-friendly content?

Jax ignored your frantic words and opened the book to a random page, he was going to tease you about whatever dumb stuff you drew since you always had your nose in it but all he saw were sketches of himself.

A normal person might get embarrassed and hand the book back, but he’s not a normal person. It’s a little freaky, he won’t lie. A glance downwards shows him you’ve gone silent in front of him, simply staring down while he invades the privacy that was your sketchbook.

Your face is red and you look like you’re going to cry any second.

He’s a jerk, he was going to fuck with you, and he still is, but for the moment he’s taking in all the creative little pieces involving his face. Ya know, he never really thought much about how he’d look in other clothes. Gotta say he looks pretty snazzy in something that isn’t these shitty overalls.

“You know if I didn’t know any better,” his fingers still flip through the pages as he steps closer, circling you. “I’d say you like me.”

“I don’t.”

The reply is rushed and he rolls his eyes at the blatant lie, he’ll humor you this time. “Oh yeah? Does that mean you’ve got sketchbooks for everyone else too? Cause I’m pretty sure this is the only one I’ve seen you with.” He taps a doodle on the cover that gives away it’s the same notebook he always sees you with.

Tears trickled down your cheeks, you knew he was a jerk but this felt like too much. You just wanted your sketchbook back and to run away to your room, maybe pin something in front of the door that would render even the key useless.

His eyes roll the second he sees a tear, he’s not really seeing the problem here. You’ve got a book full of creepy—okay not completely creepy, he’s a good model so good on you for seeing that—sketches of him and he’s truthfully honored. It’s clear that you didn’t do this with everyone, so he’s honored to be your little model. Besides, it’s not like you actually have a crush on him, right?

Minutes tick by of him simply eyeing you, you’re still crying and it’s starting to get a little ugly and snotty, ugh. But you aren’t trying to further deny his little comment about you liking him. He’ll have to have a little talk about that later, what you could possibly see in him because he knows that you aren’t a sadist—oh, are you a masochist? That’d explain a lot.

Jax sighs and closes the book but doesn’t hand it over, simply putting the free hand on his hip. “You know if you wanted to see my face all you gotta do is ask. I’ll gladly show you this handsome face any day toots.”

Of all the things you thought he’d say, that wasn’t it. “H-huh..?” You embarrassingly wipe away the tears and snot before looking up at him.

“You heard me. Ya know I love this face too, very handsome. Maybe we can get Caine to put up some artwork in the tent of yours truly.” Jax wouldn’t consider himself vain, but you did have a way of making him look more, dare he say, attractive.

“I-I don’t… I don’t understand…” Was he still making fun of you?

He rolls his eyes before playfully hitting your head with the book. “Jeez, and here I thought you were smart.” Jax leaned over like he was speaking to a child and pushed the book to your chest. “I’m saying, the next time you wanna draw me I’ll give you a front-row seat. Maybe even take it to the bedroom so we won’t be disturbed.”

You push the book into his face to cover up that growing smirk and blush furiously. “Wh-what?! N-no I-I don’t…!” It’s hard to tell if he’s being serious or not in his offer to model for you, especially with the bedroom comment.

“C’mon, clearly you got taste. I mean that book is filled with sketches of me. I’ll commend you on your immaculate taste.” Jax taps the book before playfully bopping your nose. “At least let me give you the pleasure of seeing me close up. I’ve never been a model before so you might have to get a little hands-on to get me the way you want me.”

As the innuendos continue your face feels like it’s getting impossibly red and warm. Somehow this is worse than him telling you a sketchbook full of his face is creepy, in fact, you’d almost prefer it because your poor little heart can’t take anymore. You let out a yell and it stops his tangent but that stupid smirk of his never disappears.

“Offer still stands. You know where to find me.” Jax turns away but not before throwing a little wink over his shoulder. He still plans on pestering you about what you see in him, but for now, he’ll cut you some slack. You’re about as red as Ragatha’s hair and as much as he loves to see it, he didn’t plan to get this sidetracked when he saw you on your own.

He’s got a sucker to prank.

[zepskies]

Miss Professor

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader

(Love triangle: Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

AN: Here’s the sequel to “Assistant Hottie.” Hope you enjoy!

Song Inspo: “Look at You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 5,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, love triangle, hurt/comfort, fluff and a tinge of spice.~

Jason finds you in the bowels of the university library.

Out of four giant floors of books and computer labs at Central Kansas A&M (CKM), they just had to put the Writing Center in the non-proverbial basement. There you have to wear at least two layers at all times, despite the late-spring swelter outside.

Like now, when he enters the Writing Center lobby and finds you at your desk, tapping your red pen on your lip as you work on revising an essay. Jason smiles at the sight of your fuzzy red and green sweater over your jeans and ankle boots.

“You know, Christmas came and went, like, five months ago,” he teases.

You glance up at him as he steals a chair from your coworker’s desk. She’s conveniently been on break…for two hours now. Leaving you with a mildly enormous stack of essays to edit and leave feedback on.

“Yeah well, I’m running out of winterwear. It’s almost summer, for God’s sake,” you grouse. And yet, you shiver when another pass of the AC vent above your head hits your back.

Jason smiles, but he also shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your frame. It’s lighter than what you’re wearing, but he hopes the added layer helps. You can’t help smiling up at him, though your brows end up furrowing.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’re gonna be freezing,” you protest. You try to take off the jacket, but Jason stops you by wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I don’t plan on being here that long,” he replies.

You raise a brow. “Oh really?”

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

His glinting green eyes soon dim, however, as he takes in the sheer amount of red marking up the pages of his essay. All 10 pages.

“Damn, woman. Was it that bad?” he asks.

“You’re actually getting better,” you say with a smile. “I’m seeing signs of improvement.”

Jason continues to flip through with a frown. “Right.”

Though when he actually starts reading your revisions, the familiar slopes of your handwriting, his disappointment begins to relent. You’ve made corrections here and there, but you’ve also written a lot of encouragements in the margins, like, “Good use of the word ‘solidarity.’”

And, “This whole paragraph perfectly explains your point. Just add a transition into the next section and you’re golden.”

Not to mention his personal favorite: correcting his typo on eggzagerate, and drawing a doodle of a fried egg above it. He doesn’t think you do that for all your customers. 

It makes him smile.

Though he looks up when he hears you yawn. You try to stifle it, but he can see clearly now that you’re tired. It’s almost 9 p.m.

“How long have you been working?” he asks.

“Since I got out of my last class at 5,” you admit. Finally, you spot your coworker coming back from her break (and she’s still on the phone, chatting away to her boyfriend).

“Have you even eaten dinner?” Jason asks.

You shake your head, with a pointed glare at your coworker. “No time. I’ve been chained to this place all night.”

The girl gives you a fake smile when she returns to her desk and grabs one of the thinnest essays from the pile. After shooting her one last narrowed look, you give Jason your full attention. He’s trying to temper his smirk.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm. “Let me treat you to the Central Kansas delicacy of Chicken Finger Friday.”

You laugh at that; the university food court leaves much to be desired. You still have plenty of work to do, but you’re willing to push it off until tomorrow and take him up on his offer, if it means a hot meal and spending some time with your friend. It’s been a few weeks since it’s been just the two of you, hanging out.

After grabbing your backpack and clocking out for the night, you and Jason walk together across campus. The evening air is warm. It begins to defrost you as you two venture down the sidewalk. You smile to yourself and playfully bump into his side.

Jason shoots you a grin and bumps you back, though he grabs your arm when the heel of your boot catches on the edge of the sidewalk. You both fumble a bit and laugh.

You tuck a wily strand of hair behind your ear. Part of you wants to ask what he’s doing this weekend. Maybe he’d want to go to the lake with you, hang out on the dock, or go for a swim…

But of course, that’s when his phone buzzes. He fishes it out of his pocket and his brows raise. The text is from Lana, asking him if he can come to the Talon.

I really need your help with something.

Jason lets out a breath and looks up at you apologetically.

You know that look.

“Your girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jason nods. “I hate to do this to you, but we’ve both been so busy, I haven’t seen her all week.”

And this is the first time this week that Lana has reached out to him first, wanting to see him… Well, she’s also asking for a favor, but she wants to see him.

“You know, one of these days I’d love to meet this mysterious girl,” you remark, lightly shoving his arm.

Jason smiles, but inside he’s clamming up. For obvious reasons, he hasn’t told you that he’s dating Lana Lang. Though it doesn’t make it easy to keep it from you, to lie to you. Over the course of the school year, you’ve become one of his closest friends here in Smallville.

You encourage him to explore his interests and keep focused in school, and you’ve often been a listening ear whenever juggling his classes and helping to coach the Smallville High football team stress him out.

And he’s done the same for you. With your time split between being a teacher's aid at Smallville High and working in the Writing Center to make ends meet between classes, you've done your share of venting, sometimes through frustrated tears. Jason's been more than willing to provide a strong shoulder to lean on.

Now, you don’t know that dating Lana is part of his stress, but he just…can’t afford to tell you.

It doesn’t matter that Lana’s 18, and he met her months before he took this coaching job. This is a small town, and he knows how people will talk if word gets out that he’s dating a high school senior. Not to mention, he’d get very fired.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you. “This seems important.”

Again, you have to hide your disappointment when you smile at him. “It’s okay. I should probably get back to work anyway—”

“Uh-uh. No,” Jason says, grabbing your arm when you start to turn in the direction of the Writing Center. "You’re done for the night. I wanna see you marching full-speed for those dry-ass chicken tenders.”

He nods toward the campus food court, making you expel a sigh.

“If I must,” you lament.

“And you’d better not keep working on your laptop,” he warns. “If you so much as crack open that Mac, I’ll know.”

He levels a finger at you as he walks away. You roll your eyes and head to the food court, with the promise of food just beyond the glass doors. 

After a moment, you chance looking back at Jason. He catches your gaze, and he points two fingers from his eyes to your face in stern warning. 

You giggle and shake your head at him, but you keep walking toward the food court. 

Jason smirks in satisfaction. He continues on to the parking lot, and to his car.

When Jason gets to the Talon, he crosses paths with Clark, who’s just walking out. 

“Hey, man,” Jason greets, with a jovial pat on the younger man’s shoulder. Though he can’t help but wonder why the guy is here at this time of night. “Little late for a coffee fix, huh?”

“Hey, Coach T,” Clark smiles. “Could say the same about you.”

Jason blinks at that. He cards a hand through his short hair and laughs it off. “Yeah, I was in the mood for a slice of your mom’s coffee cake. Any left?”

Martha Kent supplied the Talon with its baked goods, and they were most certainly worth driving across town for. It’s a pretty good excuse, if he says so himself.

Clark nods. “Yeah, should be.”

“All right. G'night,” Jason says. Clark nods and waves goodbye before he heads to his red truck in the parking lot. 

Jason shakes his head and steps into the coffee shop, where he finds Lana alone. She’s cleaning up a large takeout bag from Gino’s, the Italian restaurant across the street. He silently takes note of it, but doesn’t yet comment when he kisses his girlfriend in greeting.

“Why’d you send up the Bat Signal on this fine Friday night?” he asks, wrapping her in his arms.

Lana smiles up at him. “Well, I’m probably going to be slammed all weekend with the shop, but I’ve got this huge speech for class on Monday and was hoping you’d help me practice.”

She pulls those doe-like hazel eyes on him, and Jason’s almost captured by them. This time, he lets out a small sigh.

“You know I’m always down to help you out. Always. But you know, we haven’t just hung out in a while now,” he points out.

Lana concedes to that with an incline of her head, but she still eases out of his arms to finish cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy,” she says.

“I have too,” Jason replies. “But even with my crazy schedule, going back and forth from campus, don't I still make time for you?”

Case in point, he was willing to come out to her on the drop of a hat, late at night, and on the crunch week before his final exams. But he would be hard-pressed to remember a time when Lana went out of her way to see him.

Lana pauses, casting him a frown. "I'm trying my best, Jason. You know I'm graduating in a few weeks. Everything's ramped up to 11 this year."

Yeah, I know the feeling, Jason thinks, but after a moment, he caves with a nod, even though his gaze lingers on the Gino's bag.

“Have you eaten?” he tests. “Let me get us some takeout.”

He almost said, Let me take you out, somewhere nice. But he hadn’t been able to do that since before he got to Smallville. He’s beginning to wonder if he ever will again.

“Oh,” Lana says. Her eyes avert from his as she wipes down a table. “I already ate.”

Jason draws closer to her and dips his chin in order to catch her gaze. Eventually, she pauses and glances up at him.

“With Clark?” he asks.

Lana tightens up, just as he predicted. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw him when I came in,” Jason replies. He tilts his head at Lana, who never used to be a good liar. But ever since they had to start hiding their relationship, he’s noticed how good she also hides her thoughts and feelings around other people…maybe even to herself.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “He was here. But we were studying for finals, and we got hungry. That’s it.”

Jason shakes his head, but she grabs his hand with both of hers. He looks down at her tan, slender hands, and can’t help but be drawn back to her beautiful face.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, as if that can dismiss the churning in his gut.

“Listen,” he says, rubbing at his face. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I’m sorry but…do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” she refutes, “I’m with you, Jason. How many times do I have to prove that this is what I want?”

She seems so annoyed and vehement that Jason has to believe her. He wants to, so badly.

Maybe too much.

The last straw comes just two weeks before the end of spring semester—with the coming of senior prom. Jason knows he can’t ask Lana, but she assured him that she wasn’t going. 

He has a late class that night, but afterwards, he promised to pick her up and get dinner together in Metropolis. A nice date, a long-ass way out of town, so they’re unlikely to be recognized.

On the Friday evening, just hours before a high school dance, you and Jason sit together in the one class you have together: Introduction to Mass Media. 

It only meets once a week, for three hours. Technically it’s an elective for both of you, but you’d told Jason to pick any class outside of his major that he was interested in. Anything to broaden his horizons, and you promised to join him. For some reason, he chose this one. 

He thought it would be easy. Just a study of pop. culture stuff, with a mix of social media, maybe a dash of sports, if he was lucky. He’d actually been surprised with how much he was enjoying the segments on videography and broadcast journalism. 

Right now, however, he's distracted. You can certainly tell, the way he keeps checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you lean over and ask in a whisper. He knows how anal Professor Jones is about cell phones in class. The man had a “contraband bucket” to collect them in, if he caught a student using one.

“Just letting my girlfriend know I’m gonna be a bit late,” Jason grumbles, though he’s looking at the screen. “Jones is droning on past the eternity mark, as usual.”

A man clears his throat above you and Jason. You both look up and meet the flat gaze of Professor Jones. He shakes the bucket in his hand with an arched brow. Already there's about three contraband phones inside.

Jason gives a wan smile. “Come on, Professor. We were supposed to be outta here 20 minutes ago anyway.”

The lines in Professor Jones’s face betrays one simple truth: he doesn’t give a shit.

“Bucket, Mr. Teague,” he says.

Jason’s lips press in irritation, but he’s forced to drop his phone into the waiting bucket. He doesn’t see two mixed text messages from his girlfriend.

You lay a comforting hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

By the time Jason gets to the Talon, the lights are dark and Lana’s not home. Suspicion creeps in, making him feel a little crazy. 

He decides to get back into his car and drive down to Smallville High. There the gym is decked out to the nines in some kind of underwater theme. It reminds him of his own senior prom a couple of years ago, complete with the punch bowl and cheesy snacks. 

But soon enough, the nostalgia comes to a screeching halt.

A familiar ballad croons from the band on the stage.

"And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? ...Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"

He sees Lana on the dance floor, wearing one of the most beautiful dresses he’s ever seen. And she’s in the arms of one Clark Kent. 

Jason's never hated Lifehouse so much.

On Saturday morning, before the Talon even opens, Lana opens the door to Jason while still wearing her robe.

“Hey!” she says, with wide eyes, though she lets him in.

“You seem real surprised,” Jason notes.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s early for you on a Saturday,” Lana remarks with a short laugh. But she still leans up to kiss him. She only manages to get his cheek, since he doesn’t bend down to meet her like he usually would.

She frowns. “Is something wrong?”

Jason doesn’t answer at first. The words are stuck in his throat. He gestures for them to move away from the glass doors, where anyone can peek in. So they travel up to her bedroom and close the door.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, though not much has ever happened on her bed. He’s waited completely on her signals for that one. Though now, he’s actually kind of grateful that their relationship has never progressed that far. It makes what he’s about to do easier.

“Where were you last night?” he asks. He figures they’d better start there.

“I tried calling you,” he adds, when Lana doesn’t immediately offer a reply.

“Well, I didn’t hear from you. I figured you were busy with your classes, so…I went to prom by myself,” she says.

Jason sighs. “You didn’t seem all that lonely.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

Her confusion looks so real. A perfect face, and a damn near perfect lie.

“Look, I saw you and Clark on that dance floor,” Jason finally says. “Wasn't that just the perfect Hallmark moment?”

“Jason…” Lana finally starts to break. She doesn’t want to admit what’s broken, her gaze falling to the floor.

“No, let me say this,” he says. “Lana, I really put my all into this. I did whatever I could to be with you. To love you, to protect you. But in your heart, I think somewhere down the line you decided you don’t want that to be me.”

Lana’s eyes flood with tears, but she doesn’t deny it. 

“I think it’s time to really call it quits this time,” Jason says, “for both our sakes.”

He can’t help but reach out to her. His thumb brushes her cheek. Lana’s watery gaze meets his as her lower lip wobbles. She grabs his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she confesses.

He won’t say it’s okay, but he accepts that with a nod, and he kisses her cheek. 

It’s a goodbye that’s meant to last.

Once he’s back in the relative safety of his car, Jason lets out a deep breath. He grabs his phone from his pocket on some unspoken urge; in that moment, he needs something. Someone.

He needs you.

You answer on the third ring, sounding sleepy on your day off.

“You’d better be on fire,” you say. Jason smiles at the sound of your grumpy voice.

“Hey,” he laughs a little, though he's surprised that it comes so easily. “You doing anything right now?”

“Besides sleeping?” you toss back. “…No. Not really. My life is boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right about now,” Jason says, more seriously than he meant to. “Wanna take a drive or something?”

You hesitate, just for a moment. Then your voice greets him again.

“Let’s go.”

When Jason arrives at your house, you come out to meet him. He gets out of his car, and already he looks wrong. He looks drained of all energy.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern, grabbing his arm when you’re close enough. His eyes find yours.

“We broke up,” he says.

It takes your brain a second or two to compute. (You’ve just finished your first cup of coffee, after all.) But then, you’re moving to wrap your arms around his neck in the tightest, warmest hug you can give.

He holds you back for a while, and you relish in the feeling of his hands smoothing around your back and pulling you in close. His chin tucks on your shoulder, and you rub his back.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He hums in response. Sometimes, what is just is.

He lets you drive him out to the lake near your house, in your beat up Volvo. This lake is your favorite place in the world, you tell him, as you two sit side-by-side on the dock. Your sneaker-clad feet dangle over the edge, next to his longer legs.

“So far,” he corrects. “There’s a whole lot of world out there.”

You smile. “Yeah, you gonna show me? Got a magic carpet tucked in your dorm somewhere?”

Jason laughs, and you’re grateful to see his smile so soon.

“Yeah, along with a dusty-ass lamp,” he says.

You smile, but you tilt your head at him. “Are you okay?”

Jason’s grin slips a little. “Yeah, I think so…is that bad?”

You bite your lip. “Depends. What was her name? I don’t think you even told me.”

Jason turns to you, and he sighs deeply. It takes him a moment, but he eventually answers while looking you in the eyes.

“Lana Lang,” he says.

The name rings a bell…and as it comes to you, it blares like a foghorn. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

“J-Jason…she’s a student,” you stammer. “Not like, us students. Like—”

“I know. We met before I got the coaching job,” Jason explains quickly, before you can blow up at him. 

He can see you’re freaking out, trying to contain your reaction with a hand over your mouth. But the more he explains, the more you withdraw into a simmering silence. He can tell, however, that you don’t know how to feel about it. 

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

It’s not the first thing he thought you would say, but it’s very you all the same.

“Well, being outmaneuvered by my own quarterback stings like a bitch, but I still think I’m better looking,” Jason jokes. Because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable.

Too bad that was the wrong answer.

You roll your eyes with a disgusted huff, and you pull yourself up onto your feet. You start to leave him there at the dock, but Jason hops up as well and grabs your hand.

“Hey, wait,” he implores. “Look, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just…easier.”

“Why, because you didn’t trust me?” you challenge. “Or because you felt guilty about what you were doing?”

The truth is, Jason doesn’t feel guilty. Not for his relationship.

“I was trying to protect her reputation,” he says. “I know how smalltown people think. She’d be the talk of the damn town. And for what? Because we’re two years apart?”

“And I’m smalltown, is that it? I’m sorry I’m not as evolved as you, Mr. Metropolis,” you snark. “Forgive me for being a lowly country bumpkin with some morals.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jason says with an angry frown, throwing up his hands in frustration.

You shake your head at him and start booking it towards your car.

Jason follows. “You know you can’t leave me out here, right?”

“Just get in the car, before I change my mind!”

He obliges you, and it’s a painful ride back to your house. He really can’t believe you’re being like this. It’s the first real argument he’s ever had with you. He knew you might get upset, but he did think you’d be a little more understanding…

“Look, we met in Paris last summer,” he admits. And a hint more vulnerable, “I just…couldn’t help but fall for her.”

“I get it, Jason,” you reply. Your voice is flat. 

“Just please don’t tell anyone,” he asks. “We’re done. She’s about to graduate.”

As mad as you are at him for lying to you, you begrudgingly see his point. You can also start to understand why he didn’t tell you. 

But, regardless of how you feel, you don’t want him to lose his job. You know it’s the only way he can afford college.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you say, before you can reign yourself in.

Jason turns to you with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

It’s still awkward when you two get to your house. He turns to you, like he wants to say something that’ll most likely soften you. 

You’re not ready for that. 

So you kill the engine and get out of the car without looking at him. Jason takes the hint; he doesn’t say another word to you when he gets into his car and peels away.

The next weeks that follow are hard for Jason. As a member of the staff, he’s forced to go to Smallville High’s graduating ceremony.

He watches Clark and Lana graduate together with the rest of their friends. The two of them hug after she gets off stage, looking at one another with a moment of blushing smiles. It’s an inevitable look.

It makes Jason feel sick. He leaves as soon as he can, going back to languish in his dorm room. He lays on his bed over the covers with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.

He thinks about you. 

He can see you in his mind’s eye, with a pen balanced between your teeth and your hair falling over to brush the pages you pour over.

He sees your fuzzy green sweater. Your smile. The shade of your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your furrowed look when you’re concentrating hard on revising a sentence.

The more he sees, the more he wants to call you. To hear your voice, even if you're just going to yell at him. 

Jason sighs. He sits up in bed and has a thought that soon takes hold of his body, and has him swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and pulling his backpack closer.

He pulls out a folder for one of his classes and finds an essay you revised. His eyes scan over the encouragements you’ve left in the margins, along with the stray doodles. They still make him smile.

And it reminds him of the first note you ever gave him, which he keeps tucked in a small drawer in his desk. He tosses the folder onto his bed and goes to that drawer, where he finds your hastily written haiku.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

You don’t know that those words have kept his head above water in times where he’s wanted to quit school.

Or even worse, in those times when he’s wanted to go to his father, tail between his legs, to ask for money and a job doing anything easy.

So now, Jason realizes that he needs to make another decision.

He gets out of bed, and he goes to see you.

Jason travels down to the basement of the CKM library, to the Writing Center, where you’re sitting at your desk as always on a Thursday night. You have a pile of essays stacked high next to you, and your forehead is wrinkled while you read a problematic passage.

The smell of coffee makes you look up first, before you realize who brought it. Your eyes widen at seeing Jason, along with his small smile and peace offering.

“Hey,” he says.

His voice washes over you, his eyes that always manage to disarm you, even now.

Despite your better judgment, you take the coffee from him and revel at its warmth. It has to be 60 degrees in this damn room (you’re one step shy of bringing your winter gloves next time).

You sip at the coffee and hum in delight at the taste of caramel and cinnamon—a combination that only your family, and Jason, would know you loved.

Your gaze flits up to his, more begrudging as you sigh.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Teague?” you ask.

Jason grins and takes your coworker’s empty chair to sit across from you.

“I’ve got a little haiku for you,” he says, handing you a folded piece of paper. You eye him in confusion, but you set down the coffee on your desk and take his second offering. You unfold it and read something that genuinely takes you by surprise.

Hey, Miss Professor

I’ve got a question for you…

Want to get dinner?

You can’t help but laugh. It’s most definitely not a haiku, but you also know that it’s his best shot. His smile is sheepish, making yours deepen. 

“So, what’s your answer?” he asks. 

You glance down at the page, then back at him. You bite your lip, and your heart clenches. Is this it? you wonder. Is he asking you out, for real? You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking. 

“What kind of dinner?” you ask.

Jason’s grin fades. “What do you mean?”

“Is this our normal kind, where we roll out like we’re Thelma and Louise?” you ask, making him snort. “Or is this the kind where I need to change out of my dirty sneakers and brush my hair?”

He shrugs; his amused grin is back. “I mean, however I get you is all right by me.”

You nearly utter another sigh, but Jason surprises you yet again—by grabbing your hand. 

“But, uh…I’d like this to be the kind of dinner where we try something new,” he says, licking his dry lips. He looks a bit uncertain, you think, hiding the fear of rejection. “Maybe you’ll let me do my Cary Grant impression and get you some flowers. Box of chocolates.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Chocolates?”

“Whatever it takes,” he says. His tone is joking, but he seems serious. You know him well enough by now to spot the difference.

“Whatever it takes, huh?” you ask.

Jason’s hand tightens on yours, but his eyes never leave you. He really is serious, and it makes your heart stutter and trill with warmth. It feels a lot like hope.

He leans in, his head bowing towards yours…but you lay a hand against his chest.

It stops him, until your fingers curl into his shirt.

Your gaze slowly meets his.

When he reaches for your cheek, this time you let him pull you in. 

His kiss is sudden, but it’s still a gentle test. You take in a deep breath through your nose as your eyes fall closed. You press your lips against his, answering him. His fingers slide into your hair and drag down the back of your neck. It makes you shudder and tug him even closer by his shirt. 

Jason’s solution is gathering you into his lap, where you take his face with both hands and kiss him with unfettered passion. The locked doors of your heart are swinging open, and it’s a sweet relief to be honest with each swipe of your tongue against his. 

He’s gripping your hip, his fingers pressing into your thigh, while the other hand supports your lower back and presses you flush against him. As the kiss slows, so does your hand in his hair, more soothing now than gripping. 

When your lips eventually draw apart from his, it’s with panting breaths. You stare into his eyes, as yours brim with relieved tears. You touch his cheek.

“I better not be a rebound,” you warn him. “I can’t take that, Jase.”

Jason shakes his head, holding you a fraction tighter. “No, believe me. That's the last thing you are."

You bite your lip, and he encourages you to release it with his thumb brushing across your lower lip. You've been on his mind longer than he can readily admit. Since the first day he met you.

"I know I haven't made it easy, but will you trust me on this?” he asks. "I really wanna do this right with you."

It takes you a moment to decide, but you do. You trust him.

So you nod and brush your fingers along the apple of his cheek. 

“Okay,” you concede. "Let's do this."

Jason grins. “Oh, thank God.”

You giggle softly and hide your face in his neck. His chest shakes with a chuckle as he holds you back. It feels very right to hold you, he thinks.

Just as it's a relief for you to finally be in his arms.

“Where d’you wanna go for dinner?” he asks.

You laugh, a bit giddy as you cling to him and thread your fingers in his golden hair.  

“I don’t give a damn.”

AN: Haha, I hope you liked this! ❤️ These one-shots are kind of AU, in that I don't get into the Stones of Power arc of S4 just for simplicity's sake.

I do have one more one-shot idea rolling around in my head for these two...the reader meeting Jason's infamous mother lol (Genevieve Teague, played by the fabulous Jane Seymour)!

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[infohazardouz]

DEMON AU UPDATE: everything's dead (somewhat of a vent)

not to alarm you, just to grab your attention

some readers might've noticed that i've brought up problems with my laptop before- unfortunately, the ol' thing totally kicked the bucket yesterday and is now completely beyond repairing.

Unfortunately, it died unexpectedly and I don't have a backup of my stuff for about a years worth. This of course includes the entirety of the demon au, my pages that were in progress, and every other thing I had planned for tumblr.

I'm already working from a new laptop- it was mandatory to buy one for college, so I guess things worked out in that regard- but honestly I've been really depressed about exactly how much I lost. A year and a half isn't a lot of time until it's as though it's never happened.

I keep realizing small things that are now gone forever- custom brushes I relied on, my own fonts, tons and tons of memories. I'm honestly feeling really blindsided by the whole thing. To make matters worse, things are looking dire in the way of online recovery- I lost my Firefox account and all the data that was stored on there, and I'm 70 bucks out on the battery replacement that killed the laptop in the first place on top of the 2k the new laptop cost. I'm in a really dire position right now, and it's really hard for me to look at the positives although I'm really trying my best. So I just wanted to announce that until I can get my bearings, I'm gonna have to put the demon au on a short/indefinite hiatus.

I'm sorry folks, but it gets worse. I really, really hate to do this, but I'm not doing well financially as a result of all this, and if i have any hope of recovering any of my data it's by taking the HDD off my old laptop and putting it into an adapter to hopefully move things to my new system. I'm trying to save up for this $20 adapter right now <-

If you're able, I would appreciate from the bottom of my heart if you could drop a few bucks into my ko-fi here:

I've made a goal for the 20 necessary for the adapter, so you know when I've reached the amount.

I hate the idea of asking people to donate to strangers over the internet, so I will draw a doodle of your choice for any donation amount of any value if you are able to donate. Otherwise, I completely understand, and I appreciate you so much for reading this far!

UPDATE: @himboextraordinaire did an absolutely incredible thing and just donated the entire 20 I needed to order the adapter. I'm incredibly overcome with emotion over this, and I'll be removing the link to my ko-fi just to make sure no one donates by accident.

Thank you so, so much. It means the world to me what you just did for me <33

Again, I'm really really sorry, everyone. I didn't mean to let anyone down, and I really do want to get back to this comic whenever I am able- and I feel really bad about asking for donations on top of things, but I honestly don't know what else to do. I hope you guys understand, appreciate you all very much always <333

[mylarena]

i dont see enough soulmate aus so. inspired by this post by @hyperfixationwizard, soulmate au where drawings and ink on skin show up on ur soulmates skin (not scars bc there would be so fucking much going on with that and im not gonna write abt itdgthfgh)

anyways. soap has always love doodling- with anything. pencil, pen, crayon, marker, whatever he could get his hands on. he’d doodle on anything and everything. the walls (when he was a kid, mainly), paper, cardboard, desks in school, napkins... but by far, his favorite was to draw on his own skin. the thought of his work showing up on someone else, someone he was practically made for and they for him- something that they could share, something that they could keep secret and hold close to their chests- it was enough to make him giddy.

so, he doodled. a pretty flower he saw on his walk to school, curling around his wrist. a bird perched on the bench across from him at the park, taking flight on the back of his hand. the stray cat that hung out on his porch, draped across his thigh. sometimes if he didnt have a notebook with him, messy schematics and notes for devices- no, ma, thats not an explosive, he swears- scrawled on his forearm.

he never sees anything from his soulmate- he checks every single day for any new marks, any words, but he never finds any. still, he keeps drawing. it doesnt usually get to him, the fact that his soulmate doesnt give him responses, but sometimes he cant help but think too much. he wonders if his soulmate likes the drawings, which leads to the thought of them not liking them, or finding them annoying, or if they think theyre bad.

one day, he caves under his thoughts and writes his first question to his soulmate, right under a bundle of primroses- “do you want me to stop?”

he waits anxiously for hours, not knowing if he’ll be able to feel the reply, or if he has to look for it, or if there even will be one-

then he feels it- a sort of pins-and-needles sensation on his left arm. he frantically rolls up his sleeve and his eyes are immediately drawn to the letters that appear on his skin. once the writing stops, he stares with wide eyes at the single word left behind- shaky, smudged, and a bit runny in some spots-

“no.”

and so he doesnt stop.

he keeps drawing, slowly moving from small little doodles of primroses on his arms and songbirds on his hands to sprawling meadows that wrap around his forearms and ravens spreading their wings across his thighs. sometimes he adds words- always short encouragements, positive quotes, or funny thoughts he has. he never gets responses, but he knows that his soulmate is still around by the occasional ink smudge that appears. anytime one appears, he incorporates them into a drawing. sometimes its a silly little doodle, and other times he spends hours creating beautiful, complex landscapes centered around them.

for years, his soulmate holds their silence. soap doesnt mind. he knows that they appreciate his art and words. at least, thats the thought he holds onto. he never holds it against his soulmate- the whole not-responding thing. hes well aware that he can be a lot to handle; hes heard it constantly from the majority of the people in his life. he just hopes that maybe his soulmate can tolerate him more than most.

he was 14 when things changed.

he had gotten home from school, completely ignoring his parents in the kitchen and opting to power walk to his room. it had been a shitty day; he had overslept and missed the bus, causing him to be late to class, and then some dickwads from the year above him decided that he was a good target to snag lunch money from, (really? stealing a kids lunch money? why would they pick something so fucking cliche? god, get some fresh material,) and to top it all off he got a shit grade on his book report.

as usual, his solution to a bad mood is to draw, get his emotions out on a page instead of letting them linger in his mind. unlike usual, though, he decides to bypass his notebook and instead grabs a pen, chooses a clear spot on his arm.

it took a while, but he finally ran out of steam to continue- it had been nearly two hours since he began. he was about to walk over to his bed and flop face down into his pillow when he felt it- the pins-and-needles of words being written that he had only felt once before. his eyes zeroed in on his arm, right under the drawing he had finished.

“two goldfish are in a tank. one turns to the other and asks, ‘do you know how to drive this thing?’”

soap snorts, more due to the situation than the shitty joke itself- and rushes to grab his pen again. no chance he was letting this opportunity slip by.

“why was the strawberry crying?”

“why?”

“because he was in a jam.”

and so the night continued like that- they exchanged shitty jokes back and forth for hours that night, up until soap was called for dinner.

[eridude]

How do you draw so often without the fear of it not looking good or it’ll look weird? Or what do you do when you feel like art is just, too hard?

You’re someone who has increasingly been motivational and inspirational to me towards my own art in a sense, because it looks like you’re absolutely having a blast doing art, and admittedly I wish to have that same drive.

You’re doing great, I love seeing your stuff! But I am sorry if this sounded like a lot to say randomly on Anon, it’s just been something on my mind for quite some time.

hi! i cried.

anon, i want you to know that my art journey for so long, was full of trepidation for a lot of those exact reasons. i spent a good deal of my early art years worrying because i felt my work didn't compare to my friends, or the people i followed online - and so I didn't go out of my comfort zone much. which resulted in stagnation. i think, if i had pushed myself to draw the stuff i wanted, i might have been in a much better place artwise then i am today!

this is going to sound super corny and dorky but my number one art tip is to just go for it! sometimes stuff doesn't come out good. hell, i feel like a lot of my stuff still doesn't come out how i'd like! but in my opinion, art that comes out bad, that you still tried on, is better then no art at all. everything, and I do mean everything, that you try is an addition to your skillset somehow. i really hope i am not coming off too much like a dorky middle school teacher right now, lol.

another tip is find something you like or that makes you happy and draw it a million times whenever you have artblock. that is basically what i do with homestuck characters - and is the whole reason i have this blog hehe. i'm definitely not suggesting you post three drawings every day for a year because as much as i loved my dailies, i know that type of shit can be a huge burnout for people. it definitely was for me at times! but keeping a sketchbook or a page where you post silly little doodles frequently allows you to give yourself that goal of practice.

i feel like i have rambled forever now, oops. art is hard! and i am not great at communicating my thoughts. i guess at the end of the day, keep at it! when i was younger- hell, even a year ago, i would never have thought someone would send me a message telling me that my work inspired them. this means so much to me, and i promise someone someday is gonna reach out to you and tell you something similar.

you are awesome and your art is probably awesome too :D keep drawing- as long as you do, you will never stop getting better.

[brokensenseofhumor]

“Dost thou wish to engage in a duel, my good BITCH?!”

TF2 OC: The Knight | Intro Post!!!

Ok, so, you’ve just seen him, right? Cool. Now to ramble about how I made him!

So, the idea of a Knight class came to me when I indulged in a rabbit hole of Demoknight YouTube videos. And that’s when the ADHD kicked in and told me “make a whole OC based on Demoknight. Do it. Do it.” And well, I caved in.

And I had so much fun drawing him holy shit??? I had so much fun that I accidentally did some art style developing??? TF2 fandom so awesome that I developed my art style when I made an OC??? Also, his hair was surprisingly so easy??? I just had to find 2 references on Pinterest and wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am??? And I also love the highlights in his hair??? I just love everything about his ref. Noah my baby

And no, im not gonna make up game mechanics. I don’t have a computer to play TF2 :(

Anyways, here are transparents of his emblem:

And you also get a massive doodle page:

Ok yea that’s it byeeee!!!

[skulls-soul]

Am I going to finish the drawing with Luigi on the floor with Bowser’s and king boo ready to beat someone up? No that’s a lot of work that’s intimidating me so I’m not gonna do it.

I also happened. I hate the drawing because I think I did a terrible job with Bowser’s face and king boo in general as well as Luigi but it is a drawing that I need to post and Gosh dammit I’m gonna post it  because who knows maybe you people will like it

You know what I do like!

The doodle page I had a lot of fun with it

I especially like the doodle of Bowser, asking Luigi to give him a moment because he needs to collect his self (can you really blame him? I mean look at Luigi!!! he takes slay to a whole new meaning)

I also like the doodle of king boo becoming all mushy and reaching towards Luigi, probably showering him in praise 

In both Luigi is very confused and a little concerned

Because he’s dense and doesn’t realize that he’s the hottest bitch at the casino right now

[holymaccaronii]

um sorry if this is stupid or something but I like assigning birds to characters I like and I feel like ᗺE would be a Barbary Dove [Aka white ringnecked dove], mainly because yknow doves symbolism with peace, love, and hope the whole shabang. Also I like the ring aspect because it looks sorta like a halo! Also being a good show of purity. [Side note but also I feel like the mourning dove call is perfect for her, like it reminds me of her whenever I hear those buggers outside. ]

And for AM, on visual aspects I feel like he would be a bearded vulture, but honestly it's too cool looking for his ratty ass so I propose the grackle! A bird with kind of beeping/machine like calls. The main reason I chose this is I just thought itd be funny as fuck to have AM be this stupid ugly loser of a bird and ᗺE be one of the most gorgeous birds on earth. But also I like to imagine him puffing up like grackles do when they call.

Ok this was probably incomprehensible sorry have a good day

HELLO ANON I LOVE YOUR IDEAS SM AAAAHH! Gonna include some pics bc I liked the birds a lot.

THIS DUO. I THINK I SEE THIS DUO A LOT WHERE I LIVE ACTUALLY!! (I think I see the mourning dove instead of this one but yea). Anon you're so right abt what you said, these guys look like complete opposites and fit BE & AM so well. BE looking so beautiful and having a call so nostalgic while AM looks like he'd pluck your eyes out + having feathers the color of kinda how oil looks like (his big bird morph being ACTUALLY covered in oil and disgusting stuff in my AU). I absolutely loved this comparison, you have no idea. And this wasn't stupid at all! I'd love to see more headcanons like these since they can canonically morph into anything. I promise that once I remove my current nails for prom I'll try to draw them like these birds and maybe more creatures >:3c

As a lil side note I have alr drawn BE as a barn owl before in the survivor's ref sheet. I was thinking of making a doodle page with her and AM with the bodies of many different animals I believe look like opposites. I believe that in her barn owl morph her opposite could be a crow or a falcon since they're more "sharp" in shapes.

[thatpikmin]

So I had Popgoes brain rot and decided to draw them I tried doing digital doodles and failed, so I made a illustration of Popgoes as a sticker

But that didn’t stop me from continuing to rot about them so I started with drawing the whole cast

I did make a few mistakes when first drawing them but it’s whatever (ones that bothers me the most are Blake’s outfit and Holly’s head feathers) either way love how I drew them so I moved onto the next page

I started with a drawing of manora fangirling over Popgoes and holly being confused about her spending habits at the place (ex. Buying pizza even if she doesn’t like it)

Next is candy and Popgoes, I just really like that idea of candy being so oblivious while Popgoes is the one to make plans (or as explained in the drawing the dumb and smart one)

I made more of them

I continued on with a silly headcanon? Idea? Of morse and blake looking at blueprints together, since their both technicians 

I then thought of holly, I love how I drew her so decided to draw her again but from a different angle, unfortunately, doesn’t look at cute but still pretty good

Ignore the whiteout

Next one to draw was stone, I remember how one of his occupations is that he can replace anyone when something happens, so I thought “if that’s true that means he can replace Popgoes if he’s ever sick” originally I was gonna draw a sick Popgoes but didn’t know how to or where to put him

I was still bothered that I can’t get popgoes’s prints right so I drew him again just to figure it out

I realized I drew everyone except the sisters, so I drew Sara and saffron admiring jewels saffron had

I HIT THE IMAGE LIMIT FUDGE-

Will reblog with continuation 

[lara-cairncross]

Hi I did not expect to be hit with this much nostalgia for pixie hollow fairies lol

The way you draw them is so pretty!?!?!?!?! I love their designs so much

I'm considering drawing fanart now, especially since I saw the suggestion of drawing my personal OCs in your fairy au, and I realized.... I have an oc. That I created recently. Like so recently that I haven't even named her yet. And she's already kinda fairy-like??? She's the result of a one-night stand between Leo and a random bird yokai who decided to dump the egg on Leo (it's the accidental baby acquisition trope except its more like you-really-should-have-expected-this-leo baby acquisition XD)

Don't worry though, she's not bird-like enough to want to eat your fairy boys if she met them. She's basically just a feathered turtle who loves shiny things, and I haven't even finalized her design but now I wanna draw her as a fairy haha. I do know her feathers are blue-purple-pink-ish with red streaks, so her colour scheme matches Fairy Leo haha

Hmmmm maybe I should actually put a question here uhh....

You keep hinting at plot points but you've also said you don't plan on making this a comic, so are we ever going to find out what the heck is going on???

And I know the idea of making a whole entire comic can seem overwhelming, but have you considered viewing it as just doodling and practicing? For my own au comic I only have one part drawn so far and it is the first part, but I'm planning to just draw any part of the story at any point in time, just depending on what I feel like. Cuz no one says you have to do it the "normal" way, right? And I like to think of drawing the comic pages as practicing new skills, like learning how to do page layouts and composition better. Aka focus on the journey and not the end goal.

Whoo, that got kinda long and I only really asked one question, but based on previous asks you've answered I have a feeling you don't mind ;)

OK that was entirely just stream of thought after going through the whole au tag (there are more thoughts but most are incoherent and overlapping so this is what i managed to pick out of my brain), but to summarize: I love your fairy au and the boys are gonna be living in my head now, along with every other version of the turtles that I love <3 <3 <3

I'm glad to hear you're liking the fairy au!! I had a ton of fun coming up with their designs :D

I do actually plan on making this into a comic of sorts! I dunno if I could ever make, like, a long-form webcomic or anything like that-- but I'm definitely planning on doing at *least* a few mini-comics to elaborate on the story! And maybe build my way up to something longer and more fulfilled :D As of now, I'm trying to experiment with different comic styles on my own time so I can try and find something that's quick and easy, but still looks decent. I like the idea of treating it as essentially a glorified doodle page. Honestly, as soon as I try to take any of my stories too seriously, I burn out fast-- so I'm trying to stay pretty chill about this one and just making content whenever I feel like it lol

Yup, I'm totally cool with everyone drawing their OCs as fairies if they want to! It's not like I own the idea or anything lmao. The only caveat is that I have jurisdiction over whether or not something is canon to my particular au. Leo and the rest of the boys are still canonically kids/teenagers to me, and I've been writing/drawing them as kids this entire time, so I won't be including anything/anyone related to one of them having a "one night stand" with somebody. I can't really police what anyone else draws though, so have fun :D

Sorry about these little guys buzzing around in your brain ❤️💜🧡🩵

[heartofspells]

Tuesday Snip Snip

For not other reason than the fact that I want to share this.

Tagging: @tracingpatternswrites @spikybanana @maybebabyplease

Harry is seated against the wall, knees drawn up towards his chest, wedged just behind the door. He's got a piece of paper pressed on top of a book, a pencil scribbling doodles over the surface, his head bowed. The boy shrugs one shoulder, not instantly responding.

Crouching down in front of him, Sirius cranes his neck, peering at the drawings.

"What're you making?"

Green eyes half-hidden behind glasses flicker up to Sirius' face before dropping again.

"Treasure map," he mumbles.

"Ah," breathes Sirius, shifting around until he's beside his godson. "What's the treasure?"

Harry glances at him from the corner of his eye, his head dipping further over the paper, his scribbles increasing.

"Mum wouldn't let me have any of the biscuits she made earlier for after dinner," says Harry, voice lowering to a near whisper, like he's sharing the most precious of secrets. "So, I took the whole tin and hid it."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Sirius tries his best not to laugh. A small hiccup escapes before he can rein it in, and Harry's shoulders relax a little.

"I see." Sirius pauses for a second before his eyebrows lift high on his forehead. "Hang on a tick, you're not only punishing your mum by nicking them. Those were meant for me, too!"

"I'm going to give her the map so she's got a chance to find them," says Harry, sounding unconcerned.

"And if she doesn't? You gonna share the hiding place with me?" questions Sirius, titling his head down, trying to catch the boy's gaze.

Harry looks up at him, silently evaluating, his eyebrows pinching together with deep consideration.

"Are you going to tell her?"

Sirius mimes locking his lips together, swearing himself to secrecy. His godson's reaction is slow but worth the wait, his grin spreading and stretching, green eyes crinkling in their corners. Leaning closer, Sirius tugs his wand free, tapping the tip to the piece of paper. He mumbles a spell, all of Harry's carefully placed details vanishing from sight.

"What did you do?" cries Harry, immediately upset, but Sirius holds his finger to his lips when a furious and accusing green gaze pins on him, silently quieting his godson.

Touching his wand to the paper again, Sirius says clearly, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good." The map reappears, and Harry blinks at it in wonder. "Give her a bit of an extra challenge, eh?"

"Wow," breathes Harry, and Sirius chuckles, arm draping over the boy's shoulders as they sit together in the shadow of the still open door.

"You never did tell me why you're hiding here," broaches Sirius after a little while as Harry continues working on his map.

Harry scowls at the paper. "Mum and Dad were talking," he mutters. One of his lines digs in deeper than necessary, nearly tearing the page. "That's all they ever do now is talk. Talk, talk, talk. And they always make me leave."

Arm tightening around his godson's shoulders, Sirius looks up, gaze travelling the space, coming to rest on the firmly closed kitchen door a distance away where he can hear muffled voices. Sirius isn't surprised that it had finally come to this, the separation of his friends, something he'd known for years they'd probably been hurtling towards all while they'd ignored it. And it's not as though he'd wanted or hoped for it, because he hadn't, no matter what others might believe of him, at least those that know some semblance of the truth.

Lily and James together had been a stunning thing, beauty written out in stanzas like poetry. In so many ways, they'd been right, a wholesome duo, that power couple all others try desperately to compete with and always seem to fail. And Sirius had backed them from day one, stood tall and proud at their wedding, at least to outwardly watching eyes. If James was happy, if Lily was happy, then Sirius had convinced himself to be happy for them, to forever support their choices in life because he loves them both. He hadn't wanted this.

He'd wanted this even less for Harry. His parents divided, no longer living under the same roof, constantly falling into arguments that have likely grown and spread for years. The only life he'd ever known is now gone, leaving him hurt and confused, masking it with anger and blame towards the one person who remains the closest, his mother always around like a waiting punching bag, Lily taking it with all the graceful, resilient stride born into her, trying her very best not to rock her son's boat more than it already has been.

"That's boring stuff," says Sirius, clearing his throat as Harry's pencil pauses on his paper. "Adults like me, like your mum and dad, we've all got a penchant for doing that, have you noticed? We talk about things you've got no interest in. You don't want to be part of that, do you? Even I find it dull and I'm an adult!"

Scowling down at his drawing, Harry's hand begins to move again, creating carefully dotted lines through a cleverly crafted jungle that was once his home. His expression remains dark, mouth tugging down deeply at the corners, shoulders unforgiving beneath Sirius' arm.

"They're fighting," he utters in a foul tone. His head lifts, blazing green eyes burning into Sirius' face, accusing and incriminating. "They make me leave because they start fighting and they don't want me to hear it. But I still hear it. They're doing it now."

Silence falls between them, other sounds meeting their ears, the muffled voices behind the kitchen door no longer soft but loud. James' voice rumbles, nearly vibrating the floor, Lily's higher pitched and furious. Harry tenses and jolts at a particularly explosive shout, Sirius following suit alongside him.

"Hm," hums Sirius. "Yeah, I can see that now." Shifting beside Harry, Sirius tilts his head back against the wall, licking over the backs of his teeth. "Well, Haz, there's nothing for it, really," he says, his own voice rising, carrying outwards. "Your parents sometimes forget they're not children any longer, but maybe they should stop acting like giant bleeding yobs and remember that not only do they have company invited into their house, but they also have a wonderful son listening to every single horrendously immature word they're lobbing at one another."

The voices in the kitchen die quickly, the embarrassment permeating from behind the closed door palpable. Harry looks up at Sirius in the quiet that descends, Sirius quirking an easy smile when his eyes flicker to his godson, who practically beams at him.

[redzania]

would it be absolutely insane if i said i would be making a presentation about cosprout and a yuri ship that is in dandys world. would i be actually crazy if i said i would be making a fanfic surrounding cosprout because of my hyper fixation around them. would i be incredibly hysterical if i said i would be drawing a whole doodle page surrounding cosprout. woudl i be stupidly silly if i said i was gonna kill to buy cosmo and sprout right off the bat in the new update. or just to kill for them to kiss would i??? /silly

[fight-me-fuckboy]

Hello everyone!! I thought i'd give a bit of an update on the state of the comic atm

Before you worry or anything, this isn't anything bad nor are there any plans on stopping the blog just wanted to get that out of the way first lol

Anyways, the comic's doing great right now! I got nearly 9 pages worth of dialogue that I've gone through and story boarded! I'm only halfway through and I've got 45 panels all in the rough draft phase.

Unfortunately, that brings me to why I'm doing an update: a good chunk of these 9 pages [and by chunk I mean...all of it] is nothing related to asks and is rather an extended conversation between Aradia and Eridan. This isn't a bad thing of course, I love drawing out conversations and writing it was a lot of fun...buuuuuut a lot of it is exposition and I know a lot of you came here for the askblog part of the well- askblog. Which isn't going away by the by! I just wanted to give a warning that it's gonna be a bit until asks are answered again

This silly au started off as a fun little excuse to rp with new friends, and it eventually evolved into this here askblog. Eventually behind the scenes, it started to grow more and more into a passion project, and I mean it REALLY grew into one. Hell at this point it's pretty much a MSPFA that's not on MSPFA [it will be eventually tho] while being an askblog as well.

Which is why it does kinda suck to been in this rut of having to get all this long, non-ask filled story stuff all in a huge chunk. So, I kinda have a solution! In the middle of me working on the chunks of the main comic, would you guys be down to do some silly non-canon questions? They won't nearly be as detailed as the main comic, mostly just fun little doodles to pass the time and to keep the asks flowing.

Otherwise I want to thank every one of you who's stuck by the blog, we're almost at 500 followers and that's crazy as hell to me! You guys are awesome and all the support has been so encouraging, especially with my not-so-fast pace when it comes to getting these updates out haha. Seriously you guys rock my socks off, and I hope you guys keep sticking around for all we got planned because we got a whole heck of a lot planned.

[staplegxnn]

THE THIRD BEAT

(Reposts are appreciated, please do not steal, copy, or publish my work without proper credit.)

Tw: cussing, lots of juicy juicy angst

Headcannons: poppy does not like cussing (humor ensues), Barb is traumatized, Branch is a snuggly mf who loves his gfs with all his heart

Life was slow and messy for Barb after the whole “trying to turn everyone into rock trolls” thing. It wasn’t easy for her to make friends, some people still hated her, others went as far as teasing her and calling her names, it wasn’t something she could escape. But there was one escape…Poppy and Branch, Poppy was the queen of the pop trolls, a sweet and overly optimistic woman with a heart of gold and a love for glitter, and Branch was her pessimistic boyfriend, he was more chill and low energy than poppy was, but he was still all smiles and jokes. Poppy and Branch were Barbs absolute best friends, they didn’t judge her for anything, sure, Branch needed a bit more time before fully trusting Barb, but one he did, they were amazing friends. Poppy was certainly the closest to Barb, they could talk to each other for hours without getting bored, they did each others hair, they went on adventures together- they were absolutely inseparable.

Barb sat on the edge of her bed, sighing as she scribbled down some doodles in her notebook. She didn’t have anything to do today, Branch was out with his brothers and Poppy was doing some queenly shit that Barb would rather just not ask about- she had her own problems ruling her own kingdom. Barb laid back in her bed, looking up at her ceiling, she’d been staying temporarily in the pop kingdom for around a month now, since most of the rock trolls were helping re-construction of the other kingdoms, she honestly loved it there, it was bright and colorful, and sure- it was kind of not her vibe- but it made her happy nonetheless. Barb felt her hand grip around her pen, her notebook laying on her lap, she sat up and started to doodle again, it started with a head, then a body, some legs, some arms…Barb grumbled, she got up and walked to her desk, grabbing some other pens. Pink hair, pink skin, a blue and green dress…and pretty, hot pink eyes. Barb set her pen down, rubbing the paper and sighing, she chuckled, looking at the drawing.

“Poppy…”

Barb sat down in her desk chair, rocking it side to side as she flipped the page and started doodling again. Her heart thumped in her chest as she thought about Poppy, she looked to the picture on her wall of the two together, Poppy hugging Barb tightly, and Barb hugging back- she wanted that to happen again, she missed Poppy’s hugs when she wasn’t there. Barb looked back down at her paper, she drew poppy again, her smiling face and bright eyes, she closed the notebook, setting her pens aside, she took a deep breath and took the picture from the wall, looking down at it.

“Poppy. God damnit why can I not stop thinking about you….”

Barb heard a soft knock on her door, she set the picture down and opened it, almost having a heart attack as she saw the pink preppy princess standing right at her door. She stepped back.

“Ah! Poppy! Oh you’re here! I thought you weren’t gonna be back for another hour!”

Poppy giggled, hugging onto Barb and sighing.

“Ugh- the queen stuff was soooo boorrrrrinnnngg! So I snuck away to come see you!!! I- hope that’s okay-“

Poppy sat down on Barb’s bed, smiling at her. Barb nodded, smiling back and crossing her arms, trying to make Poppy’s hug last longer.

“Of course it’s okay. I’m always one for ditching.”

Barb sat next to Poppy, leaning on her a bit, Poppy leaned into her as well, the two of them falling back onto the bed and giggling. Barb looked at Poppy as she wrapped her arms around her, taking her in another big hug.

“I miss your hugs when you’re not around…”

Barb mumbled, looking up at the ceiling, trying to ignore her thumping heart and burning face.

“Awww! Barb!!! I miss you too. I wish I could come over here more often but I’m so freaking bussssyyyy- excuse my French.”

Barb laughed at Poppy’s remark, looking down at her and sighing softly.

“Eh, it’s fine, I can survive without you for most of the day. I just require like- 5 hugs per day.”

Poppy giggles, sitting up and tackling Barb, wrapping her arms around her.

“HAH! There’s number 3!!!”

Barbs face turned red, she laughed again her face now redder than the burning flames of a fireplace. Poppy noticed this, she tilted her head slightly.

Poppy, despite being busy, was a very devoted person to her friends. She had time for everyone, and everything, you could ask her to do a 4 hour long task during work hours and she’d find the time to do it for you. But most of her time was spent around two people, her boyfriend Branch, and her best friend…Barb. Barb was such a spunky woman, her personality was off the rocker and she was honestly so fun to be around, Poppy never wanted to leave her side half the time they were together, and her favorite times were when Branch, her, and Barb were all together, those were her happiest moments. Recently, poppy had been spending a lot of time with Barb, since Branch was busy catching up with his brothers, it was just the two of them most of the time, and the more that Poppy was around Barb….the more she started to notice little details about her. She always melted into hugs, she wasn’t really that snuggly, but when Poppy or Branch snuggled up to her she would cling right onto them, she always got a bit red when the two were around her…and most of all, the way Barb looked at her.

Barb looked up into Poppy’s eyes, tilting her head as well and chuckling.

“You okay there, princess?”

Poppy shook herself out of her trance, smiling and tackling Barb down into another hug, laying back on the bed with Barbs head on her chest, she melted into her like always, smiling and taking a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinkin.”

Barb closed her eyes, her arms wrapping tightly around Poppy’s waist. Poppy gently ran her hands through Barbs bright red hair, it was soft and silky, and it shined like fire in the light.

“Whatcha thinkin about?”

Barb opened her eyes, looking up at Poppy with a smile. Poppy loved Barbs smile, it was one of the best things about her, it was crooked and toothy- and the most charming damn thing she’d ever seen, it reminded her of Branch’s smile.

“You and Branch, like always.”

Poppy giggled, ruffling Barbs hair. Barb grumbled playfully, turning over and pulling Poppy into an even tighter hug.

“I haven’t seen Branch in a while. Does he come home today?”

Poppy nods.

“Yeah, I hope so. I miss him.”

Barb sits up, smiling down at poppy and stretching.

“I miss him too. Let’s just hope he doesn’t bring his brothers around- cause I am not up for having like- 50 people in my house.”

Poppy giggles, laying her head down on Barbs lap. And there was that look again. Barbs gaze softened, her eyes half lidded, a spark firing deep within her pretty reds. Poppy adored it…it made her feel so special the way Barb looked at her, like she was the only woman in the entire world.

“Nah, I think it’ll just be me, you, and Branch. We could scrap book together!!!”

Poppy smiles widely, both hers and Barbs faces a bright red.

“Ah- scrap booking? Really?”

Poppy scoffs playfully.

“Yes really, you know you love it.”

Barb rolls her eyes, chuckling.

“Uh huh. Sureeeeee. Yeah fine, we can scrap book.”

Poppy squeals.

“YAYY!!!!”

She sits up, wrapping her arms around Barb and tackling her back onto the bed, laying down with her and closing her eyes.

“I love…-“

Poppy paused mid sentence, opening her eyes and looking up at Barb, that same look still in her eyes.

“H…hanging out with you.”

Barb smiled, sighing softly and looking up at the ceiling.

“I love hanging out with you too. I swear you and Branch are the only reason I’m even still in Trollstopia. I would’ve moved if I didn’t have you.”

Poppy gently plays with Barbs hair again, giggling.

“I’m happy you stayed.”

Minuets later, there’s a knock on the door, and Poppy immediately jumps up to go get it, swinging open the door and gasping as she saw who it was. Branch came rushing into the room, picking Poppy up and giggling.

“There’s my two favorite girls!!!!”

Branch threw poppy down onto Barbs bed, hopping up and giving Barb a big hug too. Barb giggled, her face flushing as Branch snuggled up to both her and Poppy.

“Oh you’re back Branch we missed you!!! Me and Barb were talking about scrap booking!”

Branch playfully rolls his eyes, just like Barb did.

“Really? Scrap booking?”

Poppy scoffs.

“You two are no fun!!! I’ll go get the supplies from my house. I’ll be right back!!!”

Branch leans in to Barb, whispering.

“Watch, she’s gonna take like a full fuckin hour.”

Poppy snaps back around and looks at Branch.

“LANGUAGE!!!”

Barb and Branch both laugh as Poppy closes the door and leaves. Branch sighs, wrapping an arm around Barb. Barb smiled and closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself and fidgeting with her leather jacket.

“So, anything new since I’ve been gone?”

Branch gently started playing with Barbs hair- that was one of the many things him and Poppy had in common, they liked playing with Barbs hair.

“Ah, not much. Poppy’s been busy with ruling, and I’ve just been kinda stuck here all alone until she gets done for the day.”

Branch frowns a bit, huffing.

“You could’ve told me, I would’ve come back sooner.”

Barb shakes her head.

“Nah, you were busy with your brothers. I can handle being alone…I was for most of my life anyway.”

Branch sighs, hugging Barb close.

“Well you don’t have to be alone now, you have me and Poppy. And we’ll never leave your side.”

As Branch said this, Poppy came back in the house, hopping up on the bed and snuggling right up to Barb and Branch.

“That’s right! We’re gonna be here forever and you’re gonna have to just deal with it!”

Barb smiled at Branch and Poppy, looking between the two of them.

“Ah- you guys are gonna make me blush.”

Branch chuckles, laying back on the bed and letting his head hang off the end of it.

“But you’re cute when you blush.”

Poppy nods.

“Very. I agree. BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THAT!!!! ITS SCRAP BOOKING TIME!!!”

Barb didn’t even have time to process what the two had said to her before she was dragged into the downstairs part of her house by Poppy, Branch following closely behind. Barb sat down on her couch as Poppy sat on the floor, getting out all her art supplies and clapping happily. Branch sat down next to Barb, putting his arm around her and yawning.

“Oh boy. Here we go.”

The next couple hours were filled with constant laughter and talking between the three, like always, it was the most fun they’d each had in a while, just making little paper cut outs, pouring glitter everywhere, listening to music and watching movies, it was great. By the end of the day, they were all 3 warn out, it was dark out and they’d been loud and crazy to their hearts content. Poppy sat on the couch next to Barb, leaning against her and groaning.

“Ughhhh- can’t we just spent the night? I don’t feel like going back home.”

Branch nods in agreement.

“Yeah neither do I.”

Barb chuckles.

“Yeah, no shit you can stay. Have I ever said no?”

Poppy yawns sleepily.

“Watch your-…language…”

She grabs a blanket, not even bothering to grab a pillow, just falling asleep on Barb, all snuggled up in her blanket. Barb sighed, chuckling as Branch sat behind her, covering the both of them with a blanket, Barb sighed, laying back against him and looking up at him. Branch smiled down at her, then he smiled down at Poppy, chuckling.

“She’s out like a light.”

Barb laughs.

“Yeah she is.”

Barb gently plays with Poppy’s hair, smiling as she laid against her, sleeping peacefully. Barb sighed, looking off into the distance for a second before speaking again.

“Branch? Do you guys ever feel like…I’m bothering you….? Like I’m intruding on your relationship…? I’m like- literally fuckin laying in between you two right now.”

Branch chuckles, shaking his head as he turned down the volume of the tv.

“Of course we don’t. Me and Poppy chose to have you around, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. Honestly, you make our relationship complete, without you it feels like it’s missing a piece.”

Barb blushed at the remark, fidgeting with Poppy’s hair.

“Does Poppy feel that way too?”

Branch nods.

“Oh absolutely! She loves you. Anytime us two are alone together one of us always brings you up, and that’s why we’re always around you, Poppy needs you just as much as I do.”

Barb paused, the room was silent for a moment as she thought to herself.

“Branch…do you…ever think…- maybe….”

Barb paused again, looking nervous. She shook her head and sighed.

“Never mind. Night, Branch.”

Barb laid back, closing her eyes and snuggling against the two. Branch chuckled, patting her on the shoulder and laying back as well.

“Goodnight, Barb.”

Barb was the last one awake in the morning, she felt the slow rise and fall of Branch’s chest against her head, and the vibration of Poppy’s voice against her ribs. She opened her eyes, smiling down at Poppy, who immediately smiled back at her and hugged her.

“Barb!!! Sorry if we woke you-“

Barb shook her head, sighing and looking up at Branch.

“Nah, you didn’t.”

Branch sat up, helping Barb sit up as well as he walked to the kitchen and started making all of them coffee. Poppy leaned against Barb, sighing.

“Branch told me that last night you were asking if you bothered us. And you don’t!!! You really don’t. We love having you around!!! To be honest we hate “alone time” cause we like it better here with you.”

Barb giggled, nudging Poppy playfully.

“Branch, were you talkin shit last night?”

Branch walked back in with coffee, handing Barb her cup.

“So much shit.”

Poppy gasped.

“Language!!! Thank you for the coffee, sweetie~”

Poppy took her cup from Branch, taking a sip and sighing. Barb stayed quiet as Branch and Poppy spoke to each other, she thought to herself for a bit…she didn’t feel whole without Poppy and Branch with her either, she felt like she needed them as well, she felt…like she was part of their relationship in some way. She shook herself out of it, finishing her coffee and walking to the kitchen to put her cup away. Who would ever love her like that? She was a crazy, off the walls, angry, terrible person- who didn’t deserve love, that’s all she could think about, and that’s all she thought of herself. Poppy looked over to the kitchen, seeing Barb just looking down at the counter as she fidgeted with her cup. Poppy stood up, walking up behind Barb and wrapping her arms around her waist, laying her head on her shoulder.

“I know that face. What are you upset about???”

Barb shook her head, sighing and rubbing her forehead.

“It’s nothing.”

Branch scoffed, standing up and leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

“Don’t say it’s nothing. We know you, it’s clearly not nothing when you act like this.”

Barb groaned.

“That’s just the thing. You guys know me, but…you know me too well! You shouldn’t be- hanging out with me like this- you should hate me! You both know what I did…you both know how I am and get you still chose to stay….why??? Because I said sorry once? Because I had a change of heart? You shouldn’t just- forgive me right away-“

Barb put her head in her hands, sighing softly.

“I don’t deserve what you guys give me…- and I never will.”

Branch and Poppy looked at each other, both pulling Barb into a big hug. Poppy cupped Barbs face in her hands, shaking her head.

“Barb. You deserve all of what you get from us, and more. You are a sweet, loving, adorable woman and i love the way you are! I don’t care about what you did in the past- you’ve clearly changed.”

Barb placed her hands over Poppy’s hands, looking at her the same way as always.

“But…I…I just worry that…I’m a burden to you.”

Branch shakes his head.

“You are not a burden. We promise.”

But a promise wasn’t enough for Barb, she gave the two of them a soft, and clearly fake smile, before sitting up on the countertop and huffing. Poppy burrowed her head into Barbs stomach, her arms wrapping tightly around her waist, Branch just sighed and hugged the both of them, looking up at Barb.

“Cmon, you believe us right?”

Barb shrugs.

“I don’t know….it’s…- hard to. I’ve had people lie about that stuff in the past- and with you two…- I…”

Barb sighs softly.

“It would hurt worse if you two were lying.”

Branch grumbles, rolling his eyes and picking Barb up from off the counter, slinging her over his shoulder. He took her upstairs, Poppy following closely behind, Branch plopped Barb right down onto her bed, grabbing her desk chair and sitting down across from her, Poppy staying standing.

“Alright Barb. Talk. Somethings up with you. I came home, we all had some fun, and now you’re suddenly upset, and I don’t like it when you’re upset.”

Barbs face turned red, she didn’t know what to say, and she was so focused on Branch that she didn’t even notice Poppy opening her notebook.

“Ah- it’s- it’s nothing, you know me, I’m always down about something.”

Poppy suddenly spoke up.

“Oh…Barb…”

Barbs heart dropped down into her stomach when she saw what Poppy was holding- she was in some deep shit now. Branch looked over Poppy’s shoulder, his gaze softening as he smiled, looking up at Barb, who was now face down in a pillow, seeming to be preparing for the worst.

“Barb, why didn’t you tell me and Poppy?”

Barb lifted her head.

“Hah??? Tell you what??? You must be seeing things!!!! There’s nothing in that no-“

Before Barb could finish her sentence, she was smothered in a big Poppy hug, her shoulders dropped and she took a deep breath, hugging her back.

“Sorry….”

Poppy lifted her head.

“Sorry for what?? There’s absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”

Branch nods, sitting up on the bed with the two.

“Poppy is right. But why didn’t you tell us sooner…?”

Barb shrugged, she had an answer, she didn’t think she deserved to be in a relationship, especially not with two amazing people like Poppy and Branch, but they didn’t need to hear that, they probably already knew.

“I…I guess I was just nervous.”

Poppy looked at Branch, and Branch back to Poppy, the both of them smiled and nodded, looking back at Barb and taking her hands.

“There’s no need to be.”

Poppy hummed in her sweet and soft tone.

“Because- we love you like that too.”

Barb sat dumbfounded in the lower floor of her house, staring dead forward at her blank tv screen. 2 weeks. That’s how long she’d been in a relationship with Poppy and Branch, it hadn’t hit her until just then, her heart sank deep into her chest, but before she could think about anything more, she was tackled and immediately smooched on the cheek.

“BARBBBB!!!!! Hiiii!!!! I missedddd youuuu!!!”

Barb giggled, kissing Poppy back and sighing.

“You went upstairs for 10 minutes, Poppy.”

Poppy sighs, sitting up and looking down at Barb.

“That’s too long without you.”

Barb sat up as well, only to be pulled into another kiss by Poppy, Barb melted into her, sighing softly and wrapping her arms around her waist, she closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the moment. Poppy giggled as she broke the kiss, holding tightly onto Barbs hands.

“Gosh, you’re such a good kisser~”

Barb turned bright red at the remark, chuckling and tucking Poppy’s hair behind her ear.

“Ah- I’m not that good.”

Branch came up from behind Barb, kissing her on the cheek and hugging her.

“Nah, you are. Don’t downplay yourself.”

Barb hid her face in her hands, shaking her head.

“Oh stop it-“

Poppy giggled, pulling Barb into another hug.

“Nooooo~”

Poppy, Branch, and Barb all sat on the couch together, snuggling closely. Barb stared off into space again as the other two spoke amongst themselves. She couldn’t help herself, she was deeper in thought then she usually was, she wasn’t paying attention to anything except for the voice in her own head. Poppy looked up at Barb, running a hand through her hair and trying to catch her attention, kissing her cheek, cupping her face, everything she could- but Barb was too deep in her own head. Branch sighed softly, just leaning his head against Barb, and waiting until Poppy was asleep around an hour later to pull Barb aside. He gently helped Barb off the couch, wrapping an arm around her waist and walking out onto the back porch with her, and as soon as they got outside, Barb broke down into tears. Branch took her hand, his heart broke seeing one of the people he loved most in the world break down like this, he just held her in his arms, hugging her closely as she cried, he didn’t even need to ask her what has wrong, she started talking all on her own.

“Branch- I- I don’t deserve you, or Poppy…I’m a horrible fucking person. I’m loud- I’m heartless, I’m too closed off to say anything about it- I…I’m the opposite of you guys.”

Branch paused as he listened to Barb speak, he gently sat down with her, taking her hands in his and kissing her forehead.

“Actually…Barb, you’re exactly like how I was once…”

Barb looked up into Branches eyes, seeming surprised. Branch just nodded.

“Yeah, I know- hard to believe- but…I was closed off once too, I was scared, I was isolated, and to be honest…I was kind of an asshole. I didn’t think I deserved love either, but Poppy helped me see differently, she helped me realize and understand that no matter what…everyone deserves a little bit of happiness. And especially you do, Barb. You’re the second sweetest girl I know, and I love you.”

Barb smiled, tilting her head slightly and giggling through the muffled sound of her tears.

“Second?”

Branch shrugged.

“No one can be as sweet as Poppy.”

Barb laughed and leaned into Branch, closing her eyes and sighing, maybe she did deserve love, maybe this was her second chance…and maybe, just maybe- she could finally be happy once again.